Hell is Empty
by Xazz
Summary: All the world's problems belonged to the Not that it was unearned of course, when you held the power of gods in your hand it was almost easy to let it get away from
1. Harmless

The headline scrawled across the bottom of the screen even as the anchors covered the story. Explosions in Boston, the cause of which was currently unknown but Altair could hear the speculations already. By the end of the night it'd be a Devil, whether it had been or not. Even if it wasn't, they'd be blamed. All the world's problems belonged to the Devils. Not that it was unearned of course, when you held the power of gods in your hand it was almost… easy to let it get away from you show the norms how puny they were.

Altair flicked his cigarette away from him onto the sidewalk and turned away from the array of TVs broadcasting the news. They were all streaming the same thing; terrorists, bombing, the explosions in Copley, live news feeds and soon it'd be devolving into the finger pointing. There would be raids in Boston within the week, worming out the Devils, or trying to at least. The city was going to be a mess and these bombs might just be the start of it if the Army and National Guard were involved. It wasn't Altair's concern, he wasn't even in America right now.

It was spring in Moscow, finally, the warmer weather keeping the snow away and Altair couldn't even see his breath. People were walking around in short sleeves and light jackets. The Russians were more than glad that spring was here. Altair still thought it was too damn cold but he was sucking it up.

The building he wanted had a security guard and you had to sign in. When he opened the door the guard looked up and Altair saw unashamed interest. Of course he did. Altair was wearing the skin of a pretty girl from a convenience store in San Francisco he'd run into a few years ago. She had a long neck and thin wrists and a figure like a vase. Her hair had been black, shiny, and full of curls. He felt bad for her since he'd had to style it a few times, he liked using her face, and it was a hassle to clean and a hassle to make it behave.

The guard looked at Altair's face but as he came to sign into the book and leaned over the counter saw his eyes drop to cleavage. Stupid. He signed in and left. The guard wouldn't remember what he looked like and there were no cameras in the lobby. He smiled at the guard, he knew exactly how to make convenience store clerk smile and flirt and the guard smiled back.

Altair got into the elevator and his face settled to normal, almost a scowl really.

Altair put on his game face as he got out of the elevator and onto the floor he needed and walked down the hall to find the condo he needed. It was down the hall and he knocked, before waiting. He adjusted himself a bit, he needed to put on more weight, this skin didn't fit as well as it used to and he didn't have the body mass to pull off the girl's full hips and breasts like he used to.

The door opened and Altair smiled, "Are you Юлиан Комзин?" he asked his voice sweet and feminine, Russia flawless.

"Yes. Who are you?" he said, eyeing Altair, but not as a threat, more like a hunk of meat.

"Андрей sent me," he said, and Юлиан eyes lit up a bit. "I assume you know why I'm here," he said, smiling sweetly.

"Yes," he said, now leering at him and very clearly staring down Altair's shirt. Maybe because Altair didn't get it but Altair didn't understand the reason for staring down a girl's shirt. Of course he had just positioned himself to be a call girl so maybe he had no one but himself to blame. "Come in Miss…"

"Ева," he said and slid into the condo, his heels clicked on the hardwood.

"I didn't know Андрей was sending you," Юлиан said as he closed the door.

Altair giggled, oh the things he did for this job. When was it over his feet hurt. "It was supposed to be a surprise," he said and shrugged off his spring jacket. He was regretting wearing a dress now. He didn't enjoy the leering. One day he was going to learn to not look like pretty girls. Only homely girls from now on so he didn't get stared at by letches like Юлиан. Bless girls with the patience to put up with this every day. Altair didn't have that.

"Well, you certainly are a surprise," leech. "I'm sure we can make you comfortable," Юлиан said, coming up behind him and put a hand on Altair's shoulders. Yeah that needed to stop. He guided Altair towards one of the rooms and predictably it was a bedroom.

"I'm sure I'll be very comfortable," he said and sat on the bed, putting his bag on his lap. "You should go get cleaned up," he added, looking Юлиан up and down. Not that he was dirty but any self respecting whore should at least make sure those who were paying weren't gross. That's how he felt anyway.

"Heh," Юлиан seemed amused, "You must be new," he said, grinning like a wolf, "You come to my house, you do as I say. Take off your dress," Юлиан said.

Altair sighed, "I suggest you make this easy on yourself," he said and reached into his handbag and pulled out a gun with a suppressor already on it, "Get on your knees," through the voice of a convenience store clerk he sounded almost nice. Юлиан looked at him in surprise. "Go on, I know how to shoot this thing," he said getting up and his empty hand joined the first on the stock of the handgun.

"Who are you?" he asked but did get down on his knees.

"No one you know," he said, "It's nothing personal Юлиан, I'm just here on a job."

"A job? A job for who?" he asked, staring at him, confused. "And why did he send a little girl to kill me?"

Altair smiled his own smile, bending the face of the pretty clerk into his personal sneer. "You know who sent me," he said and Юлиан scowled at him, of course he did. "And you know why they sent me and Юлиан," he gave a short, dry, laugh, "You've been a very bad boy."

"Fuck you slut," Юлиан spat.

"That's nice," he said, "Do you have any last words?" Юлиан was silent, Altair frowned, "I said," he poked the barrel of the gun against Юлиан's head, "any last words?"

"Not for you," he glared at him.

"Very well. Goodbye Юлиан, tell my father I said hello," and the horror that blossomed in his eyes made Altair smile and he pulled the trigger. There was a small pop as the gun fired and went right through Юлиан's head. Altair pushed Юлиан over and picked his bullet and the shell that had popped out of the gun and put them in his bag. Poor Юлиан, like so many others he had nothing good to think about people like Altair. Too many stupid, bad, legends about them saying were the offspring of humans and demons or even satan himself. Except his parents were just human and Altair was a bit more than that.

"Oh thank goodness," Altair groaned and finally took his heels off. He didn't know how women wore these things so often. His were only three inches and they hurt like nothing else. He tossed them into his handbag and walked to the closet. Юлиан was still bleeding out on the floor but it didn't matter much. Altair ruffled his hair and started going through the closet, he messed it up and that felt great. So he was looking for… that, a seam in the wall. He pushed on the wall and it clicked and popped out. Inside were a few bound stacks of rubles, a gun, some bullets, and a thin manila folder. Altair took that and then reclosed the little safe.

Altair didn't even look at Юлиан as he walked back across the room and grabbed his bag and pulled out another pair of shoes, these without heels. He slipped on the small feet of the convenience store clerk and went into the bathroom to check himself. He made a few faces at himself before leaving the condo and going back downstairs.

"Have fun with Юлиан?" the guard asked as he signed out, clearly they knew why pretty girls showed up at Юлиан's condo.

"I was unimpressed," he said and then left, with a flourish of his hair, a trick he'd learned when he was young and decided that taking the skins of girls was in his best interest.

—

After giving the folder at his employer in Seattle Altair dropped himself off at his own condo on the couch. A high rise in New York because when you were an assassin like Altair you could afford to live well. He was exhausted but he knew he wasn't done yet. He was still running on his blood price and he needed to finish it.

Altair pulled out his personal cell phone, he had three of them, his personal, the work phone, and the one he used to call his parents. He honestly hated this part, it was so boring, but he was tired and he couldn't sleep until he'd sealed the pact. All part of the blood price. Damn him for his birth sometimes. He opened his contacts and selected ten of them and sent out a mass text 'Tired. Need some assistance,' and then he tipped his head back onto the back of the couch and closed his eyes.

He didn't sleep though, he couldn't. Not that he didn't want to but his pact that allowed him to mimic someone else's body didn't allow him to sleep. Paying the blood price broke the pact and he could sleep and get back into his own skin. He was what people were still blaming for the Boston Marathon bombing; a devil. Stupid religious assholes giving people like him such a terrible label. Before Christianity 'devils' were demi gods of great power. They were revered, even worshiped. Now people like him were shunned, arrested, usually shot, and of course blamed for everything from car chases, cheating spouses, and of course all forms of internal terrorism.

His phone rang with his text sounder. With a sigh Altair opened the eyes of the convenience store clerk he'd been wearing for four days now and looked at the screen. He got several texts all at once and all of them were some version of 'sorry, can't' and he groaned. God damnit. He put his head back but then sat up straight and texted one more person, focused. 'Could I randomly show up and have sex with you or would that be a problem?' normally he didn't contact them because they were taken. But this was a serious situation. His phone jingled a moment later.

'You realize it's 2 in the afternoon right?'

'Does that mean it's a problem? I've been awake four days'

'My girlfriend is home'

'Ask if she wants a threesome'

'At two in the afternoon?'

'It was a yes or no question'

Who are you wearing?'

'My San Francisco girl'

'Fine. You can come over'

'I owe you one'

'You owe me several at this point!'

'Are we having a threesome?'

—

"He all right?" Lucy asked Desmond, Altair was already about to go to sleep again and sleep, right there in Desmond's bed. Lucy hadn't been happy to see him at first cause he was still wearing his pretty clerk face. He'd let it melt off when he'd gotten inside though. She'd been a lot more understanding about a hot guy wanting a threesome than a hot girl wanting a threesome.

"He'll be fine," Desmond said, Altair just yawned. "He just needs some sleep." Desmond knew what Altair was, he was one too, but different. Different pact, different blood price. Lucky bastard. Sleepless pact and to commit one of the 'first sins' as a blood price was horrible. But he didn't ask what Desmond had to do.

"You sure?"

"Yes, now c'mon. He's harmless, promise," and they left. Harmless. Right. People like Altair were a lot of things. He wouldn't ever call them 'harmless'.


	2. Too Good for You

Altair raised an eyebrow when his phone started ringing. What the hell? Literally. People didn't just call him, even his friends (little few those were) didn't call him. Altair didn't like phones. He didn't like talking to people and not being able to see their expressions, not being able to read their body language. It was second nature, reading someone, so he could mimic them later. Talking to the air annoyed him. If you had to call Altair on his personal phone most people texted. It was less messy and didn't set off Altair's near OCD obsession with needing to see someone while talking to them.

The phone rang but Altair didn't pick it up. He just watched it ring. Then it went to voicemail. He'd look at it in a few minutes, he was making lunch. Then the phone started ringing again and Altair glared at his phone so hard it might as well have burst into flames. Who the hell was calling him?! Altair turned back to making his lunch, grilled cheese made with brie and a slice of avocado and tomato in it.

Normal people had all sorts of ideas about what devils ate but very few were willing to admit that other than the pact devils weren't any different than regular humans. Meaning Altair liked normal food. He had a few friends who had food related pacts and blood prices but most were pretty tame. Though he only knew two who had 'strange' ones. One guy, who called himself The Vampire, had to drink blood of another human to end his pact. He usually carried a vial on him, which was smart since his pact let him read people's minds, at the price that he had a very limited control over how much he heard. While a useful ability it was good for only a few seconds at a time before it all just turned into white noise. Another devil he'd heard needed to eat their own hair in order to break their pact. They rarely enacted it though. Too messy.

Altair was glad his blood price was something as trivial as a first sin: murder, sex, theft, or lie. Altair murdered for a living and almost never broke his pact with it, his pact was his cover. Theft was too time consuming since it couldn't be something simple like shoplifting a pack of gum or a candy bar (he'd tried that as a kid), it had to be something… substantial. Same with the lie. No white lie would do, it had to be something serious.

Which left sex. Altair had never been a fan of it quite honestly. It was messy and dirty and slippery. All words Altair was against, communication wasn't the only thing Altair was mildly or more OCD about. But most of all it was just… boring. Atair had had sex with more people than he cared to count or keep track of and it was always so unsatisfying to be honest. Even times when he wasn't exhausted from his pact. It made breaking his pact easy at least since who didn't enjoy no strings sex?

Altair turned his sandwich as his phone rang again. He scowled at it and willed it to stop ringing. But of course it didn't. It kept ringing, and ringing. It went off to ring again and again and only once he'd taken his lunch off the pan and turned off the burner did he go answer it. He picked it up just as it stopped ringing but his brows arched as it picked right back up. This time at who was calling. What the hell were they calling him for? Last time he'd heard from them had been six months ago, they didn't even answer Altair's texts for help with his pact.

He contemplated not picking it up. But he was curious and clearly enjoyed being punished for stupid things, so he swiped his thumb across the face of his phone. "Malik," he said, sounding pleasant but also clearly annoyed, "what can I do for you?"

"Was wondering when you'd pick up," Malik said on the other side and Altair felt his OCD starting to go. Damnit he hated phones.

"I was making lunch," Altair said testily.

"I see."

There was a silence. Altair wasn't really 'friends' with Malik. They just worked the same circles, killed for the same people and sometimes fucked on Malik's bed. But that was about the extent of their relationship. It was usually very professional and sometimes they even worked together. It Malik was calling it was because he wanted something, or needed help. Still why couldn't he just be a civilized human being and text him? None of this talking on the phone bullshit. "What do you want Malik? You don't just make social calls to me."

"Right. I need some help."

"What sort of help?"

"My parents are visiting," Altair held back a smart remark about that, like how that required help or why that would warrant calling Altair. "And… well, to stop them from parading various girls in front of me like show animals I told them I had a girlfriend."

"Malik you do remember you're gay right?" Altair clarified.

"I do remember. My parents… do not."

"I don't see how this is a problem I can help you with," Altair said boredly and moved back to the kitchen where his grilled cheese was perfectly warm still. He took one of his big kitchen knives out.

"I was wondering if you could come over and pretend to be my girlfriend," and Altair nearly cut one of his fingers off as he cut his sandwich into triangles.

"… Come again?" he asked.

"You heard me."

"I'm going to hang up now," and Altair took his phone off his ear. As he did he heard Malik yelling through the speaker but he tapped the screen and Malik was cut off. He put his sandwich on a plate and his phone rang again. He put it on vibrate it and ignored it before going to his table to enjoy his lunch.

Malik though was nothing if not persistent and kept calling him all through him eating. Altair dragged himself to the kitchen counter, grabbed his phone, and answered it. "What?" he asked, now angry too.

"Just hear me out."

"I'm not pretending to be your girlfriend. Don't you, you know, have some girl friends?"

"They'd all skin me if I asked."

"And I wouldn't?"

"You're much less likely. Also my parents know all my girl friends. They'd know I was lying. I'll make it worth your while."

"And just how do you think you'll do that?" Altair asked mealy and leaned against the counter.

"I'll pay you."

Atair was quiet a moment, "How much we talking here?"

"What's your rate for a hit?"

"You'll cough up that much for me to pretend to be your girlfriend for your parents?"

"Yeah sure. I got that. I'll even meet your blood price."

"Damn right you are."

"And you need to be convincing about the whole thing."  
"Malik, don't tell me how to do my job. Convincing people I'm actually female seems to have turned into my second job. People always fall for the pretty face," he wasn't even gloating. It was basically fact. "When is it?"

"Tomorrow night."

"I can be there. You have anyone special in mind?"

"Just someone pretty and not blonde, I don't like blondes."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'm slightly afraid."

"Good. Now, don't fucking call me. I hate the fucking phone," and Altair hung up.

—

Clearly Malik was surprised when he opened the door to Altair standing there. "Uh…" he said, staring at him, "Can I help you?"

Altair rolled his eyes at him, "Malik, you idiot, it's Altair," he huffed.

"A-Altair?" and Malik was gaping at him.

"Yes. Why else would you have a hot girl at your doorstep?"

Malik was still staring, "I've actually never seen you like this give me a second," Altair rolled his eyes again and just shoved Malik out of the way, walking into the house. "I didn't know you had someone that hot," he said.

"She isn't much your taste though is she?" Altair asked over his shoulder. Malik lived in North Carolina in the mountains and it was still cool up here, out in the middle of nowhere. Malik took the other approach to their life and lived in isolation. Altair was wearing the body of a girl he'd met in Sri Lanka named Shey, her hair long and black he usually kept in a braid, her skin the color of caramel and eyes a strange honey-green. It was why he'd decided he liked her the first place, he liked his second skins to have something fascinating about them. Unlike his San Francisco store clerk Altair knew more about this girl, he'd made friends with her and had kept in touch with her for a while until her house had burned down, she caught in it trying to get her grandparents out. What a waste.

One thing Altair knew and would hold onto was that she was too good for Malik. Too beautiful, too pristine, too wonderful. It was why Malik was staring. Malik was only a bit attractive, but his nose and ears were a bit too big, his eyes were boring and he was so plain. Malik was boring so even though Altair could mimic him perfectly if he wanted to from how much time they'd spent together (rather limited though it was) he was too boring, too easy, and thus not worth Altair's time. Even if Malik did like girls there were slim chances he'd ever get someone like Shey.

"Wow," Malik said and then chuckled, "I didn't know I had such a hot girlfriend," he joked.

"You better appreciate me," Altair said, his voice Shey's and very sweet and touched by a barely there Indian accent, "She was more interesting than you." Malik scowled at him.

"You got my email?" he asked.

"I did," Altair nodded.

"Good. What's your name tonight? I haven't told my parents what 'her' name is."

"Shey," Altair had no problem using his real name, he honored her by being who she was. He only brought Shey out for important reasons, or ones to make an impression. "When do they get here?"

"Half an hour. Don't forget to be nice."

"Maik, please, this is me we're talking about."

"I know it's you!" Malik cried, "That's why I'm saying that since I know how you are. You're a terror!"

"I promise," Altair said and slid over in front of Malik and put his hands on Malik's shoulders. He saw Malik swallow at the sudden invasion of privacy of which Altair had very little concept of, "I'll be on my best behavior," and he kissed Malik lightly on the lips. Malik just gaped after him as he turned away to put his light coat in the closet. Too easy.

—

Another reason Altair hated sex. It left him sore like you wouldn't believe and just as exhausting if he'd been holding his pact for two days. He was lying face down on Malik's bed, sweat still glistening on his skin. Shey's skin a distant memory now and he wore his own like a pair of comfortable pants. The kind that was worn at the leg hems, fraying, and maybe had a few holes in them and were thin around the crotch. Shey and the rest were well tailored business suits, for work, his own was comfort and for lying around.

Malik's hand was against the small of his back and Altair grunted, "Go away," he grumbled, tired.

"Going to sleep already?" Malik teased, he was still on his hands and knees above Altair.

"I hate you," Altair sighed. "And yes."

"Kill joy."

"The job was to be your girlfriend, not to fuck you," Altair said boredly and pushed himself up to look over his shoulder at Malik. He was more interesting without clothes on, his body scarred from his work, much like Altair's.

"Girlfriends fuck their boyfriends," Malik said.

Altair rolled his eyes at him, "Job ends when the blood price is met. I'm tired, jerk off if you're still horny," and he flopped back down on the bed.

"You're no fun at all."

"I'm not paid enough to have fun," Altair yawned, but Malik did get off him. Malik laid down next to him as he pulled the blanket up.

"Thanks for the save," Malik said.

"Next time you find yourself a real girlfriend," Altair sighed and was then asleep.


	3. Telephone Wire

It really wasn't supposed to happen like this. Altair hadn't fucked up exactly. He hadn't at all actually. The target had just been lucky. Lucky and then Altair had fit his knife right between their eyes because fuck them they were better off dead if for no other reason than Altair's wallet needed them to be.

He ran down a side street, panting, pained, before he had to stop and press his hand to his side. Fuck. He'd been shot and it hurt like a motherfucker. He pressed against a wall in agony. He needed to find a place to stop, rest, take the bullet out and shift.

Shifting while already in a shift was difficult. Altair had learned long ago that while shifted his power to imitate was greatly diminished. And he needed perfect recall to shift, he needed to remember everything about the person he wanted to shift into. It was hard to do when shifted and not going back to his own skin. It was even harder when he was in pain.

Altair froze when someone walked past where he was hiding. He fingered the trigger of his gun and watched them. If they turned around they would see him. Hopefully they'd just keep walking.

Karma wasn't on Altair's side. They turned, clearly satisfied he wasn't down this public alley and instantly saw Altair. Altair brought his gun up and as they were about to yell something he fired. The gun coughed a suppressed bullet out and it hit the man right in the head. They were dead nearly instantly. He heard other people though. Clearly they hadn't been far enough away. Muttering a curse Altair took off again his bullet wound be damned.

They chased him and Altair kept bleeding. He had to shift. He _had_ to shift because they wouldn't be able to touch him if he did. Altair had to focus. Easier said than done because he was now on a busier street, not terribly busy, but there were people. He had to dodge and weave around them or shove them aside and every time he looked over his shoulder he saw the men pursuing him gaining.

He started mid step and brought to mind one of his easy ones. He pushed back the pain in his side from getting shot and pushed down the mild panic he was feeling. Instead he brought up to the surface of his mind a man that looked nothing like him. They were taller and darker with silver hair, a long beard and dark eyes. His grandfather had been a devil and had taught him everything he needed to know about the pacts and the blood price.

Altair ran across a street just as the light turned green. On the other side he looked and saw the men had had to stop chasing him because of the cars. Altair turned back forward and ran until he couldn't anymore. He nearly collapsed on someone's stoop, gasping, in absolute agony and grabbed onto the shift. He remembered his grandfather. His face aged and became wrinkled, his hair grew longer and he developed a beard. His body became a bit more frail. Shifting to other devils, or family members, was always easier than strangers, or humans. And right now the fact that he was so familiar with his own, late, grandfather, was a blessing.

He groaned and slumped against the side of the stoop. The men who'd been chasing him ran past. One stopped and looked at him. "Old man, you see someone run by here?" he demanded.

"That way," he croaked, knowing his pain could be seen as age. The man didn't even say thank you before running off.

Once they were gone Altair knew he had to get up. He had to _move_. He didn't even know where he was. He used the hand rails to pull himself up and for once he was glad for the pact. It would keep him awake until he bled out since going unconscious was also something that couldn't happen during the pact. He needed to find out where he was and then get to a hospital.

Altair looked at the house he was sitting in front of and laughed aloud. He knew where he was. Great dumb luck, or memory, had made him come here because he knew it was safe. He shuffled up the stairs and rang the doorbell.

The door opened to a man he didn't recognize and for a moment Altair despaired. "Uh… can I help you?" the man, younger, relatively good looking with blue eyes and black hair. Ugly pants, plaid shirt with rolled up sleeves, bandana that made him look like an idiot. Altair took him in in an instant and a sweep of his eyes. Habit. There was more but he couldn't focus on that.

"Is Rauf here?" Altair asked.

"…Yes. Can I ask who's asking?"

"Altair- please-

"Rauf," he called into the house, "There's a man named Altair the door here for you."

"Altair?" he heard Rauf's voice, thank god. Or thank someone. There was no god. If there was he wouldn't have made people like Altair. The closest thing Altair knew to a god was himself, and others like him. "Altair?" he focused on the close sound of Rauf's voice, "Yusuf go keep an eye on lunch," and Rauf shooed Yusuf off.

"Shot," Altair said softly and showed Rauf his bloody palm.

"Shit. Come in, come in," and Rauf dragged Altair inside. "Yusuf I'll be upstairs. Keep an eye on the food."

"What? Rauf, what's going on?"

"Just a friend. Don't worry about it, I'll be right down," and Rauf pushed Altair upstairs, nearly carrying him, and pushed him into a bathroom. "What did you do Altair?" he asked as he opened the cabinet under the sink.

"Job. They got lucky. Chased me. It hurts," he gasped.

"Yes it would," and Rauf covered his mouth, forcing something past his lips. Altair swallowed the pills dry. Rauf was a kindergarten teacher who'd once been a British Special Forces combat medic. He was since retired and lived… alone. At least last time Altair knew Rauf lived alone. He was a good contact in England though and he always liked having an excuse to come to Oxford since he was always open for a fuck after a job. But that… kid (why the hell was a university student in Rauf'd house?) might be problematic. "Do you know how much blood you lost?" bless Rauf at least he didn't have an accent, growing up all over the place did that to you.

"No. A lot," Altair winced as Rauf pulled off his shirt.

"Who's the skin?" Rauf asked him, keeping him talking.

"Grandpa," Altair said and was starting to feel tired. That wasn't good. He'd only been in the shift half a day, he shouldn't be tired. It meant he was fading.

Rauf slapped him, "Don't go to sleep, Altair," Rauf told him sternly.

"Yes, sir," Altair said, now much more awake, apparently he'd said the tired part aloud. He cried out when Rauf seemed to stab him and wiggled something around _in_ him. Altair only liked things in him when it was to pay his blood price. He heard a 'tink' and looked into the sink. There was a bullet covered in his blood at the bottom. Well that would explain the pain. Rauf had just ripped it out of his body.

"I'm going to cauterize the wound, I'll be right back," Rauf told him and left.

Before he came back he heard him and- Yusuf right?- the university student talking outside. The younger man seemed worried but Rauf was firm and eventually came back inside. "Who's the kid?" Altair asked.

"One, he's not a kid he's twenty-five and working on her Ph. D and two, my boyfriend."

"Fuck…" Altair muttered and then Rauf stuffed a towel into his mouth.

"One, two-" and on two pressed something searing hot to his skin. Altair screamed into the gag and clenched, biting the towel. A few unbidden tears leaked from his eyes. "Okay, you shouldn't lose any more blood," and Rauf pressed something blessedly cool to his wound and tugged the towel out of Altair's mouth. "Now stay right here and don't sleep."

"Where are you going?" Altair asked.

"To explain to my boyfriend why I just heated my cutting knife up to red hot," Rauf said.

Altair looked down, "Sorry," he said quietly.

"Ah well better late than never he finds out that I'm friends with an incubus," Rauf said and Altair snorted a laugh; such a bad idea. "Yeah, don't do that, I'll be back," and he left.

Altair sat on the toilet lid for a while. He didn't pass out so that was a win for him. He felt really tired though. However he _did not_ sleep. He hovered just above waking and wondered if Yusuf would let Altair have sex with his boyfriend. He didn't feel like buying a hooker. Not after getting shot. But he was just _so tired_.

He didn't know how long he sat there, but Rauf came back eventually and on the landing Altair could see Yusuf, looking curious, but at a distance. "You told him we don't bite right?" Altair asked Rauf.

"Be nice, you're the first devil he's ever met and you look like an eighty year old man," Rauf said, helping him stand.

"I feel like one. Where are we going?" he asked as Rauf led him out of the bathroom and downstairs.

"Living room, you can lay on the couch for a while."

"You gonna help me with my pact?" Altair asked him.

Rauf looked at him, "Maybe," he said. Altair sighed and Rauf helped him sit on the couch and lay down. "I'll make some more lunch," he said acting like this was the most normal thing in the world. When you were friends with Altair though you got used to this stuff, and him dropping in at odd times.

Yusuf sat on the arm chair opposite him, watching him.

"I can't throw fireballs," Altair told him, moving a slightly to get at least a little comfortable. "Or read minds, or turn people into frogs, or walk on water, or turn invisible, or anything I know you're thinking of asking me what my pact is," Altair told him. Yusuf at least had the humility to blush.

"Then what can you do?" Yusuf asked.

Altair focused, it was hard, but he did it. He could become anyone but himself until his blood price was met. So he became Rauf, because Yusuf would get freaked out by it. And he did. "I can shape shift," he said.

"… That is so horribly disconcerting," Yusuf said. "Please stop that."

Altair grunted and shifted again, his brows furrowing, all this shifting was murder and his new burn adjusting to the new skin and color hurt like hell. He became one of his go-tos. His pretty connivence store clerk girl with the curly hair who's name he knew was Sandra because it had said so on her little plastic name tag she wore and Altair remembered everything about his skins. "Say hello to Sandra," he said with Sandra's voice.

Yusuf's eyes went wide. "Can you turn into anyone?"

"I have to touch them and be around them long enough to remember what they look like," Altair said.

"So you could become me?" Yusuf asked.

"If I touched you," Altair said and when he held out his hand Yusuf leaned back. "Heh, thought so," he pulled his arm back.

"How do you know Rauf?"

"Old friend," Altair shifted again. Fuck he _hurt_. "Known him for a very long time. How do you know him?"

"He's my little brother's teacher," Yusuf said awkwardly.

"Huh… You like him?"

"Why? You care?" Yusuf asked testily.

"He's my friend," Altair said.

Yusuf blushed a little, "Yeah I like him. Obviously."

"Good. Because if you ever hurt him I will carve out your lungs and use your ribs-

"Altair," Rauf's voice cut him off, "Stop scaring my boyfriend," he scolded him. Yusuf looked positively _petrified_ at Altair's threat.

"Good," Altair said and looked at Rauf. "Can't have one of my only buddies have a broken heart now can I? Might as well act the scary devil part."

"Try to eat," and Rauf helped him sit up and gave him a cup of soup. He could sip it without assistance.

"What're we going to do about my blood price?" Altair asked Rauf once he and Yusuf also had food.

"I can call someone," Altair made a face, "What?"

"I hate sleeping with strangers," he said.

Rauf huffed, "Well you could do one of your other methods of payment," Rauf reminded him.

"I can't steal anything in this state, and unless you want me to murder your boyfriend that is also out."

"Then lie," Rauf said simply, next to him Yusuf was watching this happening with big, slightly terrified, eyes.

"I'd really rather we just bang-

"Hey!" Yusuf protested.

"Kid, I've been fucking your boyfriend since you knew what your dick was even for," And both Rauf and Yusuf turned red.

"You don't have to say it like that, Altair," Rauf snapped.

"I just told the truth," Altair shrugged, "He's a gentle lover, isn't he?" he asked Yusuf who was fully red and Rauf looked mortified.

"I should have just let you bleed out in the bathroom," Rauf told him.

"No you wouldn't have. Also that worked," and he finally could shift back to himself.

"What?" Rauf asked, "What the hell Altair? How'd you do that? What did you say?"

"Dude fuck you you were a terrible, asshole, of a lay when we were young."

Rauf just groaned and pressed his hand to his face. "Altair you fucking asshole."


	4. Incubi

Altair knew something was serious when he got five rapid fire texts in a row. He was out on his balcony, tending to some of his plants. New York City was bright and cheerful today and Altair was having a nice day off. His texts could wait. He'd only been home from England a few days after living some on Rauf's couch. He was allowed to go slow since his side still hurt a bit, though he'd mostly healed.

He clipped some of the leaves from a potted plant and then watered it, tossing the leaves off the balcony to drift down to the street. He liked plants. They were simple yet could also be a challenge. Each type needed to be tended to in a certain way and Altair had a routine he went through every morning. He went to the gym, then put the coffee on while he took a shower. He read the news on his iPad while he ate his coffee and had his breakfast and then he tended to his plants. He'd skipped out on the gym the past few days though, in deference to his shot flank. He was a creature of habit and didn't like being disturbed. Which is why the texts could wait until he was done, he didn't care how important they were.

He spent another hour or so checking his plants, which hadn't been happy while he'd been gone and some had been starting to wilt when he came home. Then he picked up his plate and cup from the table outside where he had breakfast and put them in the dish washer. He heard his phone go off a few more times but he didn't rush to answer it. At least they weren't calling him like that one time Malik had and he'd gone as Shay.

Altair was just going to get his iPad and phone when the front desk buzzed him. His brow furrowed. Who the hell was that? Not many people knew he lived here. Only a few people, ones he knew long enough to trust with his home.

Curious, he went over to the intercom. "Yes Marvin?" he asked, since he knew all the security guards who watched the front desk. Altair liked Marvin. He looked like a thin Santa Claus with a bald spot and knew everyone in the building and _knew_ Altair didn't like visitors unless it was a delivery boy.

"Mr. ibn La'Ahad, there's someone here to see you," Marvin said.

"Who is it?" he asked, because Altair didn't want to see them probably.

"He says his name is… Ezio Auditore?"

Altair's face dropped, "Tell him, in these exact words if you would Marvin, to go fuck himself."

"I'll do that," and there was a brief silence. "He says its important and- hey!"

"Altair," Ezio's voice came over the intercom and no doubt Ezio had wrestled the phone away from Marvin.

"You," Altair's eyes narrowed.

"Oh don't be like that," Ezio said. "Just tell the guard to let me up before I make him do it."

"You wouldn't-

"I would. So do it. I don't have time for games right now."

"This is precisely the reason I _don't_ like you Ezio."

"Is everything all right Mr. ibn La'Ahad?" Marvin's voice said.

"Let him in," Altair through clenched teeth.

"All right, sir," and Marvin hung up. Altair snarled and jerked away from the intercom.

Altair knew plenty of devils. They tended to attract each other. Like Desmond who he'd known for a while and had a very powerful ability akin to possession where he could astro project himself into someone and walk around as them. The blood price was extremely high though and required sacrifices he'd rather not take. That was about as Altair knew about Desmond's blood price though, he didn't know the specifics. Rauf was also one, with the power to calm anyone he touched, which was probably why Altair hadn't felt any panic when he finally got there, and his blood price was easy. He had to cut himself. He knew under his clothes Rauf was covered in tiny scars. There were others of course. He knew dozens, all over the world, some who couldn't even speak English.

But of them all Ezio was his least favorite.

Ezio's pact allowed him to manipulate people on a fine scale, able to command them to do whatever he told them to do. Effectively it robbed them of their free will when he wanted to, though most times it was merely a suggestion. Like he'd suggest to someone that they sleep together. Or that someone give him money. Or that someone shoot themselves in the head. You could resist the suggestion if you knew it was coming but most people didn't. Ezio was also a dangerous devil who liked to use his ability without worry. Altair hated him because his blood price was easy. All Ezio had to do was say sorry and the pact was broken.

There was a knock on Altair's door. He really contemplated not opening it. More knocking. "C'mon Altair open the door," Ezio called. Angrily Altair wrenched the door open, "Hi," Ezio said.

Altair punched him in the face. "That was for the last time we worked together," Altair snapped at him, furious. No one pissed him off like Ezio did. They worked the same circles, same as him and Malik. But Ezio was in higher demand because he always made it look like an accident. Malik was a normal assassin. Ezio made it an accident. And Altair made it impossible to ever track, he was, effectively, invisible. Sometimes they worked together. Last time Ezio had made Altair get caught by the cops and he'd had to burn one of his skins because now they had a criminal record. He'd never forgiven Ezio of making him unable to use Nathan in Europe after a botched job. Nathan had been Altair's favorite alias and now he couldn't use him anymore.

"The fuck Altair… that was like five years ago," Ezio was slightly bent over, his hand on his cheek. He stood up straight. "Well, you're chipper."

Altair glared at him. "What do you want Ezio?" he demanded.

"Can I come in?"

"No."

"Let me in, it's a job."

"Not interested."

"You haven't even heard the job yet," Ezio said.

"Don't care. Not interested," and Altair tried to close the door.

"Let me in," and Altair felt the tug.

Altair kicked. Though he wasn't wearing any shoes Ezio still howled when the ball of his foot connected with Ezio's knee. "Don't even try it Ezio," Altair snapped.

"You're right, sorry," Ezio groaned, now doubled over to hold his knee. "For fuck's sake Altair. I haven't seen you in three years and you hit me twice in five minutes."

"I still hate you," Altair growled.

"I have a job. I need some help. Please?" Ezio reverted to his pretty face to get Altair to let him in. "Fifty-fifty split."

Hating himself Altair let Ezio in. Not that Altair was greedy, but he had expenses, sometimes rather high ones, so he needed money. "Talk," Altair said once the door was closed.

"I have a job I need help with," Ezio said.

"Why?" Altair asked and folded his arms over his chest.

"I… well, I need a date that can watch my back while I work," he made a face.

Altair scowled at him, "Why does everyone in the business suddenly need me to be a pair of tits for them?"

"Because you're a nice- oh that was rhetorical; gotcha," Ezio winked. Altair rolled his eyes. What a moron.

"What's the job?"

"Information and espionage," Altair's least favorite things to do. "There's a big benefit dinner in a few days I have a pair of tickets for."

"Why don't you just ask some girl to come along?" Altair asked, eyes narrowed.

"Because I need someone to watch my back and none of the lovely ladies in the business will return any of my calls," and now Altair looked down at his phone. Most of the texts he had were from Ezio and a few from another number he didn't know. "Pay's good and it shouldn't be violent. I just need help getting around and covering for me while I do the thing."

"How dangerous is this?"

"Why?" Ezio rose a brow at him.

Altair lifted up part of his shirt, "I'm healing still from someone getting a lucky shot on me."

Ezio winced in sympathy, "It shouldn't be too dangerous," he said. "The benefit is for kids-

"This isn't going to hut them will it?" Altair cut him off, "Cause you know I _do not_ take jobs involving kids."

"No no, it's fine. The guy I need is a child trafficker actually. He's going to be there because he works for a child non-prophet. Basically he's a dirty bastard. But… I'm not married and my tickets are for me and my wife."

Altair gave him a dark look, "I hate you."

"So is that a yes?" Ezio asked him cheerfully.

Altair bit back an angry remark. "Yes," he said with a scowl, "I'll help you."

"Excellent," Ezio grinned widely. "Do I get to pick what you look like-

"No. Now get out of my house," and Altair opened the door again.

"Hey-

"Call me the day of," and Altair shoved Ezio out of his house and closed the door in his face.

—

He really, _really_, didn't like the way Ezio was looking at him when he got out of the elevator. He decided to play it up and was using one of his pretty skins. Not Shay. Shay was special and _so_ not for Ezio. Shandra wasn't pretty enough or Ezio would complain. So he'd brought out one of his skins he didn't like so much because he had trouble walking in her.

Altair was a man, he _did not_ have the every day practice to walk with hips this wide without concentrating. This girl had been named Vanessa. She was dead now, overdose. He'd known her when she was young. She'd lived fast and hard and had basically killed herself by the time she was twenty-one. They hadn't been good friends, not good enough for Altair to tell her about his condition as a devil, but enough that Altair knew how to act like her. She was tall and stacked with a narrow waist and a big butt and boobs and looked like a Barbie doll. Altair nearly hated this skin though because he could make Shandra or Shay strut easily but Vanessa was hard to do and he walked like a man when he wasn't focusing.

Ezio whistled, "Wow," he said.

"Oh do shut up," Altair said.

"You look lovely."

"Don't be a leech," Altair spat.

"Of course not," and Ezio offered Altair his arm. Altair gave him a side eyed look and put Vanessa's delicate hand on his arm. "I must admit, I'm impressed you can walk in heels that high. I couldn't do that," he said once they were outside.

"We all have our talents Ezio. Mine just happen to be more impressive than most," he said as Ezio led him to a car. Ezio opened the door for him, "I just look like a woman."

"Yes, yes, I know. But I'm being polite," Ezio said and giving Ezio the hardest side-eye he could he slid into the front seat. Ezio closed the door once he was inside. "So, what do I call you?" Ezio asked once he was behind the wheel.

Altair played with Vanessa's hair and was amused that Ezio was completely hypnotized, "Vanessa," he said with Vanessa's husky voice.

Ezio took a deep breath, "Well, this is gonna be fun," and he turned the car on.

—

Altair was sitting on a counter of the bathroom, his heels on the floor under him. He swung Vanessa's legs back and forth boredly and in the stall he could hear talking but wasn't paying attention. He was just watching the door and making sure no one came into the bathroom while Ezio worked. He'd decided to take off his heels because they hurt like hell and were taller than the ones he wore as Sandra. Vanessa was a type of girl that _demanded_ high heels you could crush a man's ego with, and Altair took good care of his usual skins, even one as unused as Vanessa.

"Ezio," Altair called, "you done yet? I'm bored and want to go home," out of Vanessa's mouth it sounded slightly petulant.

"Almost, _dear_, just a few more minutes."

"I don't want to be home late," he said, "I do have things to do in the morning, _honey_," Altair rolled his eyes.

Ezio stuck his head out of the stall, "I'm working here."

"Well work faster, I want to go home and get out of this dress." And then he made a disgusted face when Ezio looked _very _interested in that.

"Yes, dear," and he went back into the stall.

Altair hopped off the counter and looked at himself in the mirror and made faces at himself. The door opened and he made a startled noise. "Oh- uh-" he said, pretending to be caught off guard by the other man.

They looked surprised to see him, "Uh… You realize this is the men's room right?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm sorry, I couldn't find the ladies," which was fair since the ladies restroom was across the main building. "Could you just, give me a minute?" he asked sweetly.

"Sure, sorry," and the man backed out.

Altair turned to the stall Ezio was in, "Time's up, you need to finish," he said bluntly.

"Yeah yeah, I'm done anyway," Ezio said and Ezio left the stall. Altair leaned down to pick up his shoes and squeaked in surprise and nearly fell forward when Ezio smacked his ass and squeezed.

Altair glared at Ezio before twisting and kicking him right in the gut. Ezio doubled over with a moan of pain. "Try that again and I'll stomp on your dick," Altair said smartly and marched out of the bathroom, holding his heels in one hand. The man who'd tried to come into the bathroom before looked at him oddly, slightly afraid. "It's free," he said and stomped away.

—

Altair just wanted to shower. He was _never_ doing this again _ever_.

"What, not going to stay?" Ezio asked as Altair wriggled out from under him and got up from bed.

Altair gave Ezio an unimpressed look, "Hell no."

"What? You enjoyed it, admit it," Ezio said with a smug smirk. Ezio, however, did not do smug very well without looking like a creep.

"Ezio," he tapped Ezio's chin, "I haven't enjoyed sex since I was sixteen. So don't think you're anything remarkable."

Ezio scowled at him, "No way, everyone loves having sex with me."

"Stupid everyone loves having sex with you because you tell them they do."

"I do not."

"Do so."

"Do not."

"Do so."

"Do not."

"You tried to do it _to me_," and Altair whapped him on the head before getting dressed in a spare change of clothes he had. "If I'm an incubus you're one too, and those sorts of devils don't mix well."

"Aww, c'mon Altair, don't be like that," and Altair smacked his hand when he reached out to grab Altair's wrist.

"Fuck you. Fuck yourself. I'm going home. I expect the money to be wired to my account by the end of the week or I'm coming back here to put your nuts in a vice."

"Such a sweet talker," Ezio smirked.

Altair scowled at him, "I hate you. Goodbye," and he walked out of Ezio's room.

"So I can keep these?" Altair turned around and saw Ezio was holding the underwear he'd been wearing as Vanessa. They were cute. Not Altair's favorites though.

"It's about as close as you'll ever get to having sex with again. So sure. Jerk off to them for all I care; weirdo," and he left, slamming both Ezio's bedroom door and his front door on his way out.


End file.
